


you touch me and galaxies erupt

by cmbing



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, and can barely notice the world around them, jake and amy are dumb and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmbing/pseuds/cmbing
Summary: His lips meet hers and it isn’t a peck like before; it’s deeper, a movement with purpose, and he cups her jaw with reverence. She can’t think straight, doesn’t want to, wants to focus on the touch and warmth of her husband, the way he kisses her like no man has before.(or, jake and amy are alone, until they realize they are not)





	you touch me and galaxies erupt

**Author's Note:**

> dan goor,  
> please let amy and jake make out.  
> sincerely,  
> me

They lay face to face and she tries to recount their best kisses.

Undercover kisses that were rushed and in the moment and felt too right for them to be calling each other made up names. A first kiss, then a secret tryst, in the evidence locker, hands grazing skin and lips learning new territory. Frantically—cold lips on warm ones after a plunge into chilled water and a close call on Christmas. Then, a reunion, six months and falling back into the rhythm of them, of soft mouths and reassuring I love yous. And then again, in the bar with all their coworkers watching, but he was back in her arms rather than in a jail cell and it’s a welcome back home. After their engagement, after they say I do, after every last guest leaves and they sway into the early morning hours.

In the small moments—goodbyes before work, between sips of coffee, when he gets an answer correct on _Jeopardy!_

And here, as their noses brush and their lips meet in a happy surrender. It’s quiet and the room is dim in midnight’s glow, but she feels him smile, and when they look at each other, there is a light in his eyes that she wants to mistake for the moon. 

“I love you,” she whispers and he repeats her words like a perfect echo.

“This is nice,” he hums, placing his hand on her hip and reveling in the heat of their proximity. 

Amy finds herself nodding her head into his chest, a dull knock against his sternum. She expects his arms to wrap around her frame, but then, his pointer finger finds her chin and tilts her face up toward his. His lips meet hers and it isn’t a peck like before; it’s deeper, a movement with purpose, and he cups her jaw with reverence. She can’t think straight, doesn’t want to, wants to focus on the touch and warmth of her husband, the way he kisses her like no man has before. Perfect, he’s perfect.

But then—

“Oh my god, are you guys having sex over there?” Gina. Her voice is lithe with laughter and teasing. 

Jake and Amy jump apart and Jake bangs his head on the desk next to him and reality comes crashing back:

1) They are in the precinct with the entire squad.

2) A blizzard is waging war outside and they are trapped inside indefinitely, resulting in everyone having to camp out with blankets and pillows on the floor.

3) They were heard making out by at least one of their friends.

“No! We aren’t!” Amy whisper-yells back and sits up, keeping her hands as far as away from her husband.

“We were just uh… snorking? Kissing? Just a peck on the lips and nothing more?” Jake tries and utterly fails. He rubs at his now-pounding head.

“Definitely sounded like your tongue was down her throat, dude,” Rosa says point-blank from the other side of the desk and even in the night, Amy blushes a shade-too-noticeable red. 

“What’s going on over there?” It’s the serious, unwavering voice of Holt and Amy doesn’t think her cheeks can burn any more as she buries her face into Jake’s steady shoulder. 

“It’s nothing, sir,” Jake says, high-pitched and caught on his strained throat—only to be drowned out by Charles in a moment of true elation: “Jake and Amy are giving me a little Jake!”

“Santiago, Peralta,” Holt begins with a sigh. “I have no issue if you do that stuff at home as you are married, but in the workplace is where I have to draw the line.”

“No, dad, er, _Captain, sir,_ it was just a kiss!” Jake says, still exasperated, jumping up to his feet to meet the eyes of everyone spread out in the bullpen. “Like the kind a husband and wife do before bed because that’s what we were going to do… sleep!”

“Pretty sure I heard a moan,” Gina smirks.

Jake whips his head around and looks at his wife. “Amy!”

“What?!” Amy squawks and she quickly decides that this is one of the worst moments of her life. 

It’s even worse than when Captain Dozerman walked in on Jake and Amy making out in the evidence locker, all newly-coupled and hell-bent on breaking every rule they could think of. Sure, it was painfully awkward and embarrassing and there’s the part where Dozerman had a heart attack and died—but still, he was practically a stranger to them. He was not one of their close friends or the captain she and her husband thought of as a father figure.

Amy will admit there’s been other… moments. Jake pushing her up against the door of the janitor’s closet, his mouth on her neck, rough and frantic. Amy bumping into Jake in the evidence locker after a long case that kept them apart for days and pressing her lips to his, out of frustration and exhaustion and need—to be with him, to feel him, a sense of completeness. Slanted mouths meeting and hands wandering after the power went out and it was just the two of them with time to kill in the stopped elevator. 

And, now, accidentally here, a moment of them forgetting about the others in the room. She admits she has a bit of tunnel vision when it comes to her husband. The Santiago-Peralta orbit, like one planet circuiting the sun, her consumed by the brightness of him. A cosmos of its own, one that erupted between two opposites making each other feel whole. 

She feels her lips on his and it’s hard to bring her back to earth.

Until now, of course, as she can hear Terry saying amongst her embarrassing spiral that he’s “noticed Peralta and Santiago walk out of the evidence locker together one too many times for two people who don’t work together anymore.”

“My wife and I will go back into the evidence locker if you don’t leave us alone,” Jake says in a moment of rare defensiveness, his voice low and serious. “We’re married, consenting adults. It’s not like we wished to be trapped in here with all of you guys. If it were up to us, we would be at home, in our bed, _alone_.”

Amy looks at Jake with a soft smile. Under his humor and childish antics can be real sincerity, one of kindness and fierce loyalty. She noticed it when they started dating, when they got engaged, and more so three months into their marriage. Now, there is a hush to the room, everyone lulled to silence by Jake’s change in tone. A warm sense of pride bubbles up in Amy's chest and she rubs at her wedding band, feeling out the cool metal like it's the first time. The time when she walked back down the aisle, this time arm in arm with her new husband, and she brought her right hand up to fuddle with her new ring. He had looked at her with such love, the word nevermore embodied until then. 

In this moment, he returns her gaze with a similar warmth and she thinks, that's him, my husband, my incredible husband.

She mouths 'thank you.'

He mouths 'I love you.'

She watches his mouth twitch into a smile, one that always leads to a laugh, and his breath shakes.

"But you guys have to admit," he says, eyes crinkling, "can you blame Amy for not being able to keep her hands off of me?"

"Jake!" Amy exclaims. "You give everyone that speech about leaving us alone and now you say  _that_?"

"C'mon, babe! It's all in good fun."

"I'm about to move my blanket away from you."

Jake pouts, putting on his best puppy-dog look. Amy only narrows her eyes. 

He says, "You're not gonna make your husband sleep alone on the floor, are you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe I am."

Somewhere on the opposite end of the bullpen, Terry mumbles, "I feel like we're intruding on something here."

Jake moves back down, his eyes soft and sorry, their faces close together again. "I'm sorry, Ames."

"I'm just messing with you, Jake. I'm not mad. I know you like teasing me." She reassures. 

He pulls her down, just enough to be blocked by the desk, and presses his mouth to hers, gentle and over before either of them wants it to be. "Yeah, but I like making you happy more."

And in the quiet, their orbit aligns. 


End file.
